A half circle a line a dot
Sits in your mind to rot
Many many words precede it
Alas nothing follows
Sometimes there are no words
Just a blank face
People dont read the words
Or the half circle or line or dot

I think I know the answers
I can still read faces
The veil is so tightly wound
To mask all the words
Some words still peep out

The wait is long
Nevertheless the veil will crush
Under its own burden and someday
The words will follow
The half circle the line the dot…


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